


A tipping point

by AnaVakarian (orphan_account)



Series: 31 days of Wayhaven [17]
Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: 31 Days of Wayhaven, Angst and Feels, Angst du Mortain, Arguing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Sex, So many doubts..., idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27279727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/AnaVakarian
Summary: There's a Halloween party, some dressing up, a heated argument and a very intense first time. And some Angst du Mortain, of course!***The credit for the dressing up idea has to go toKassandra_divina_trevelyanandArista_Holmes
Relationships: Detective/Adam du Mortain, Female Detective/Adam du Mortain
Series: 31 days of Wayhaven [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940107
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	A tipping point

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 30: night. Prompt 31: Halloween

The night is clear and chilly, just enough to form vapour clouds in front of my mouth with my exhales, and the absence of moonlight turns it into the perfect setting for a horror film. The twinkle of the carved Jack O'Lanterns watches over the scarce souls that still wander the streets, close to the witch’s hour of midnight. _Trick or treat_ time is far over and only lonely passer-by are still out on the streets.

And that is exactly my case. Except for the small detail that I am not alone and someone else - tall, broad-shouldered, grey pea coat - walks next to me immersed in an annoyed - and annoying - silence. 

“Oh! C’mon Adam... You have to admit that the irony is funny. Just a little bit?”

My tone is easy and hopeful, and I grin at him, trying to ease the mood. A pointless effort, I’m afraid, as the blonde vampire just scowls even further, stubbornly quiet, while we arrive at the door of my apartment block. 

So I just give up, rolling my eyes and looking away from him. “Well, at least Felix thought it was hilarious…”

The constant and assured sound of his steps behind me come to a halt while I retrieve the keys. In the corner of my eye, I perceive that Adam is giving me a hard look, narrowed icy green eyes even cooler than before, if that’s possible at all. His jaw is clenched, shoulders tight and I am nearly sure that his hands are fisted into balls in the pockets of his coat. 

And I know he’s about to chew me out once we walk in and I know it's about my costume. Not that he scares me, as it’s not the first time he barks at me and we end up headbutting. In preparation - and foreseeing the storm coming - I feel my moodiness skyrocketing at the same time my brow sinks, mirroring his own.

Although, being completely honest about it… Perhaps I’ve been pushing this whole dressing-up joke a bit too far… 

This whole _situation_ began 4 hours ago, although it had been lurking in my mind for quite a long time already. As a joke. 

Halloween has always been my favourite festival and this year, as a Detective, I had the dubious privilege of being invited to the private and exclusive party at the Town Hall. There was alcohol, music, snobs, representatives of the city services and, of course, Mayor Friedman. And, as a whole novelty this year, Agent Rebecca Greene and her squad had also been invited: the sexy vampires were still the talk of the town even after the passing months. Besides, the mayor was still trying to bang my mum, to my disgust... 

As I fully expected, only Nate and Felix dressed up for the party: a rather good looking mummy and a zombie. And, as I also fully expected, Mason and Adam didn’t. Fair enough… To be honest, I couldn’t really picture them in any supernatural costume different than their own skin. 

I obviously dressed up, as I already said, on a smashing costume and I thought it was the best and funniest idea ever. Felix cackled the loudest guffaw when he saw me, that bad that he had to bend over himself to keep breathing. Nate chuckled, shaking his head in amused disbelief. Mason wolfishly smiled at me, although I think it was more about the outfit than the actual costume idea. Thought confirmed after he gave me a clear pick-up line. But Adam…

Well, I would have never thought I could gather so much coldness in a glare as I received from him at that instant. 

And just for a stupid costume! Black leather trousers, victorian corset, a black velvet cape, some fake blood and, the final touch, a cheap set of fangs that kept falling off my mouth every time I opened it. 

I was a vampire!!!

Honestly, I found it hilarious, working with four of them. But it was quite clear to me that Adam didn’t share my amusement…

After four hours of mingling with authorities and a bunch of snobs, dealing with the Major and keeping my mum at distance, the party was over and I was not even drunk. And, to my surprise, Adam was the only one who volunteered to accompany me home, even if my gaze screamed at Nate for help… 

In other circumstances, I would have really wanted Adam to walk me home, but not today. Not when we have barely exchanged words at all during the whole evening. During this year we have had our sweet moments together, mostly holding hands, long deep conversations over a glass of wine, understanding a bit better why he acts the way he does with me. And I’m being patient, Gods know I am because I think he will be worth it. But I’m just a bit fed up with his pissy behaviour lately. 

In the blink of an eye, we are both in front of my apartment door.

“What is what you find annoying about my costume exactly? I mean… I was the one bitten and everything, and the only one with no supernatural powers. Haven’t you considered that this might actually be sort of therapeutic for me?” I reproach at him with a matter-of-fact tone, fumbling with the keys to open the door. Perhaps I should have just remained quiet and wait for him to speak, but I’m quite pissed at his _pissiness_ , if that makes sense. 

In response, Adam’s brow bottoms down his face as if I have just said the most stupid thing in the history of humanity. “Therapeutic???” He asks in bewilderment, following me inside and pushing the door closed after himself - not hard enough to break it, though.

“Ok! Ok! I’ll carry on being a miserable human and having nightmares as I had before…” I retort, scowl now patent on my face, gesturing excessively with my hands in a very dramatic way, I reckon. 

And my line and acting only makes his frown sink deeper - if that’s even possible - and ball his hands into fists on his sides. “Do not twist my words, Eve. Besides, are you seriously telling me that this... _charade_ feels therapeutic in any way to you?” he insists, signalling my outfit with a hand in disbelief.

“Yes! This means I’ve reached a point where I can make fun of Murphy’s attack… So yes, it’s kind of _therapeutic_ , Adam.” I’m fully aware that my tone is far from being quiet at all, but he’s getting on my nerves and this argument is overly stupid. 

We both pause to glare at each other on opposite sides of my dining room. The setting is great: giant spiderwebs and a new set of plastic pumpkins lighten my apartment up gloomily. There's distant music on the next-door flat’s party that seeps through mine.

“ _Make fun_? You nearly died! That’s the most reckless statement…” He gives two steps forwards but stops himself on going any further, nearly choking with the intensity of his voice that echoes in the walls like a drum roll and I hold my ground in front of that man that is scolding me as if I was a child. Once Adam speaks again, he has lowered his volume considerably. “This is not a thing you should be making fun of. We are far from being the romantic characters every novel painted, but monsters, Eve,” he grunts, his tone sharp and cold as the winter wind.

My chest tightens and my blood boils at his statement and his patent stubbornness. I stride towards him, bridging the distance between us, my finger pointing at his broad chest. Menacing. Threatening. I actually snarl at him when I speak. “No, you’re not. You’re as far of being a monster as you are of being a fucking romance novel character. So stop saying it!” 

The words leave my mouth definitely harsher than I intended. At least, harsh enough to quieten him momentarily. Despite his silence, Adam glares at me because of my outburst. However, it only lasts for a second. It quickly changes into something softer, with a hushed hint of gratitude at the meaning of my words, and a hint of something else that neither of us has been brave enough to name just yet.

And, suddenly, the world stops spinning and I become hyper-aware of our proximity, the broad frame of his body just a few inches away from me. The annoying music of my neighbours muffles in my ears and our agitated breaths are the only sound perceivable. I suddenly realize that he smells... well, nice.

We stare at each other for a while, icy green eyes meeting my sapphire blue ones, still challenging and proud, but not cold anymore. 

His gaze lingers on mine, boldly but hesitant, before gliding down slowly to my lips. We had found ourselves in situations like this before, longing pulling us together as the most potent magnet. But he always runs away from me nevertheless.

Adam swallows hard, and I can see and feel his struggle. 

My breath hitches. My heart stutters. I’m not sure if it's because of the prospect of another disappointment or because I do really need whatever might happens next.

No. This time won’t be different than many others before... The longing will persist. He cannot be thinking of doing it for real this time, can he? 

But, to my surprise, he does.

His hand, slightly trembling, reaches out to cup my chin and tips it up. And he leans down and kisses me gently, just a light contact lip to lip. Insecure. Fleeting. 

I freeze. 

Adam pulls away and I blink confused, not believing what has just happened. The kiss has been so soft and brief that I am not really sure I didn’t imagine it. 

I let out a breath I don't know I am holding, and look at him, wondering for answers. Wondering what that meant.

The raw emotion in his eyes strikes me hard: a mixed desire for more and fear. I cannot think, our gazes are locked on each other. My body reacts before I do, getting on my tiptoes and circling his neck with my arms carefully slow as if he might vanish if I go any faster. 

I pull him down for another tentative kiss and he doesn’t resist. 

Unhurried, languid, but firmer than his, trying to figure out if this is just a dream. And to my delight Adam responds, his lips moving on mine shyly.

And I sink back on my heels, parting from him.

He nuzzles my nose with his and rests his forehead on mine, eyes closed, both our breaths ragged. The next thing I feel is his hand cradling the back of my neck, fingers caressing my scalp, while his other arm wraps around my waist, pushing me closer to his firm body as if the distance between us hurts. 

He seeks my mouth this time, his tongue teasing my bottom lip with the slightest touch. And I concede, parting them. I'm completely lost in the taste of him, in the silky strokes of his tongue and in the delicacy of each of his movements. 

But it only takes seconds, or perhaps minutes, before the kiss grows. Thirsty. Starving. From unhurried to needy. From subtle to determined. Full of contained emotion.

I tighten the grip of my hands on the collar of his shirt, desperately searching for support, as I’m not sure if I’m awake or dreaming. His scent, the need and the heat of his mouth… I don’t want to open my eyes. I don’t want to wake up. His other hand tangles on my short hair and tugs tentatively, tilting my head to the side. He kisses my cheek, my jawline and descends a trail of nips and kisses down my neck and I moan, desire blooming in my core. His mouth reaches one especially sensitive spot that makes me gasp and he suddenly freezes, taking a dark deep inhale over my pulse point. 

My eyes snap open. A thrill of danger descends down my spine.

“I wouldn’t mind if you…” I breathe out with a husky voice, meaning clearly implicit in the unfinished sentence. And I surprise myself realizing it is the truth indeed.

However, he cuts my words short. “I won’t,” Adam claims, although I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or to himself. 

Before I can think of it any further, he goes back to my lips and I drink his kiss with fervent desperation. My hands go back to life, running over his shirt, untucking it from his trousers and undoing buttons as I find them. When I finally pull it open, I trail the soft skin of his torso and his hard muscles and planes and I sigh in awe. Hot perfection, like one of those roman statues that the museums keep in their insides. Timeless beauty. 

The bare rake of my nails over his sensitive abs make him moan and I chuckle when his usually clever fingers, unable to undo the tie of my cape, rip it open instead. 

Adam stops and huffs, but I don’t give him time to speak or to apologize. Or to overthink about it before I’m tugging at his shirt. “Take this off,” I mumble, so close to his lips that I’m sure he can feel the words. 

And he immediately complies, getting off the shirt and tossing it onto the floor. I pull away just for an instant, just to admire the exquisite perfection of his body, how his chest rises with an agitated breath, how the slightest blush of pink has grown on his cheeks and how he’s looking at me with unconcealed want. 

The colossal barrier that Adam had put between us during this whole year is not there anymore. The wall has collapsed. The dam has burst. And we are being dragged away by the strongest and most primal need I’ve ever felt before.

Desire strikes me so hard that makes my knees buckle.

I gasp in surprise when he lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his torso. Entangled on kisses, he paces until the wall makes us stop forcefully. It feels frozen cold against my back in heavy contrast with the burning heat of his body embracing me. 

Gods, I feel him whole, hard against my core when he rocks between my legs and I moan. The pressure feels good, far too good. But it’s not even close to what I need. What I want. I rock my hips in response, eliciting a groan from him that sounds delightful in my ears. 

And, suddenly, he sharply breaks the kiss, panting heavily. Adam rests his forehead on my bare shoulder while I’m still wrapped in his strong arms, helplessly wondering why the reason for his pause is. Even when my fingers comb his scalp gently in an encouraging way, I can still feel his hesitation. 

Is it because of my blood? Am I really that _overwhelming_?

“Adam, we don’t have to continue. It’s ok,” I mutter, resigned but understanding. 

He sighs and pulls away, just enough to meet my gaze. His mouth opens, but he stumbles with the words and that’s so unusual in his normally secure endeavour that makes me hyper-aware that this is a highly unmapped ground for him. He takes a deep breath before trying to speak again. “I do want you, but it’s been a long time…” To my surprise, he smiles thinly, shyly - just a bit - and a red blush crawls onto his face. “I’m a bit overwhelmed and this could be a rather disappointing experience if we keep up this pace...” 

_Oh!... Ah! Ok…_

It seems that I was quite wrong about the blood and I do wonder for an instant what “a long time” exactly means for a 900 years old vampire, but I hold the question for another day, perhaps. However, I’m still against the wall, lifted up and feeling him hard and pushing against me. As much as I want to be fucked right here and now, I could also do with a change of pace. 

“We can slow down a bit, perhaps?”

He nods and leaves me back on the floor delicately, his fingers caressing my cheek immediately after on a dreamy promise and I realize that I’m more than willing to hurtle towards whatever abyss he wants to take me with him.

Before I can react, his lips are on mine again, but this time sweetly and delicately again, and his hands are scouting over the corset, sliding down towards my hips and back up, unhurriedly caressing the sides of my torso. His touch is feather-like over the side of my breasts and sends a thrill of desire straight to my core. 

“As much as you look stunning in this, I would appreciate if you take it off.” 

I have to chuckle at his polite ways, but I comply. He spins me around and pulls gently at the laces, this time without ripping anything apart. Still with my back to him, the next thing I feel are his hands mapping my skin and tracing my arms and shoulders, caressing my neck and my scalp. I gasp when he finally steps closer to me and embraces me from behind, being his chest flushed to my back. 

Adam kisses my neck again as lingers his hands over my body. I moan and squirm in his touch when he finally - finally - outlines my breasts with his fingers before his thumbs caress my nipples. Before I realize, one of his hands has slipped into my trousers sneakily and I feel myself dying in anticipation, holding my breath. 

He perfectly knows what he’s doing when he parts my folds to damp a finger into my moisture before going back to caress my clit. The moan that leaves my mouth is obscene and my knees decide is a good time to give up, that bad that Adam has to hold my waist to avoid me to drop on the floor.

“Is this good?” he whispers in my ear with a bit of smugness, cradling me closer to his body if that’s even possible at all.

I stutter something incoherent as lost as I am on the feeling of him, on his unhurried strokes on my sex, on his strong arm circling my waist, on the warmth of his naked skin on mine and on the feeling of his lips, claiming my neck with tender kisses. 

My pleasure is building way too fast, probably out of anticipation and pure need. At the end of the day, it has been nearly one year craving him. My nails dig into his biceps and I find the strength to put words together at last. “Adam, you’re doing quite a good job, but I want you...”

“But I don’t know how long...” he whispers in a veiled excuse.

The steady rhythm of his finger fastens just a bit and I feel the tension coiling up in my core. 

“It doesn’t matter, please… I want you,” I insist.

But he carries on. I’m already at the edge of my climax when he finally slows his relentless pace and pulls his hand out my trousers. I complain with a muffled groan, my whole body twitching, desperate to reach the denied relief. However, my frown and my frustration soften when I see his focused expression and his thin smile. Adam holds my hand and walks me into my bedroom. We kiss again, hard and passionate and I melt into his embrace and his doing.

Our remaining clothes are off on a blur of motion that I cannot clearly recall, and we map our bodies, lingering touches over flushed and heated skin. But I know he’s stretching the moment out and I just wonder if it’s because he’s really enjoying the caresses or he’s really that adorably shy for not wanting to ask. 

“Are you sure of this, Adam?” 

He doesn’t reply - he’s quite busy exploring my lips - but he nods fervently, cupping my face with his hands.

I grin a little because he is broad and stern, pig-headed and scary sometimes. But I got to see that part of him that is not the common one: his vulnerability, his insecurities and his fears. The next question is probably the most awkward thing I’ve ever asked during foreplay, as the flow of the moment usually leads to it naturally. However, despite our clear intention of ending this whole experience in bed, I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. “Would you like to be on top or shall I?” 

He takes in a shaky inhale before answering. “Whichever feels best for you, Eve.”

I smile at the consideration of his answer and push him back a little so he falls on the bed. Adam shuffles back to rest his head on the pillows and I climb up onto his hips but he seems to be reading my mind and sits up immediately, circling my waist with his arm, fingers splayed over my bare back, anchoring me. 

He groans with pleasure when I hold his thick erection to line him up with my body. Then, I lower myself down slowly, sinking him inch by inch in me. Fireworks, or perhaps a million galaxies, begin to cluster behind my eyes at the sensation and completion never felt so intense, so good and so right at the same time. 

The righteous feeling of belonging overwhelms me when I begin to rock very slow in his lap. When his hands clasp my hips with unexpected strength. When his lips find mine just to let out a shaky exhale.

After the first deep thrust of my hips - which makes him moan and shiver, to my delight - his thumb reaches straight away to the point we are joined together to caress my clit. I ride him unhurriedly, kissing, drinking his pleasured sounds with my mouth and focusing on angling my hips for him to reach that sweet spot inside me. After all the meticulous foreplay, my climax strikes me really fast and with the weight of one year of contained feelings and longing. With the asphyxiating pressure of words that haven’t been spoken between us yet. 

And immediately after, Adam's hips stutter and I feel him come, leaving muffled groans and heavy pants on the crook of my neck. His teeth tease my tender skin without breaking it and I’m amazed at how much self-restraint he actually has. 

The world blurs on the edges and tiredness makes its way into my bones. We kiss for some minutes, sloppily and tenderly, before I move away from his lap and into the bathroom to clean myself. 

Looking in the mirror, I see the marks on my skin, slight bruises and love bites that will tell the story of our passionate night to everyone that would be curious enough to notice. But he hasn’t bitten me. Not at all. 

I smile goofily at my reflection and try not to put words at the feeling that blooms in my chest, thinking of what a huge step forwards this actually has been. For him. For us. 

To my surprise, Adam is fast asleep in my bed when I come back to my bedroom.

***

The weight of his arm has been a consistent leitmotif during the night and, even if disruptive after such a long time sleeping alone, it has been welcomed. 

However, there’s nothing there anymore. I can’t feel the warmth of his body. The bulge of blankets on his side. Just nothing. 

I open my eyes and, as if waking up from a dream to fall into a nightmare, I realize Adam is not in my bed, but just an empty cold space where he should be. 

I don’t fully understand what is going on but, once I do, I panic. And, then, I dread, taking his disappearance as regret. It’s suddenly obvious that he feels guilty about what happened between us and fled. 

And that I’m alone once again. 

Perhaps this shouldn’t have happened in the first instance... Perhaps this has all been a mistake... 

But it’s too late to take things back as they were before. In what sort of vulnerable position _this_ leaves us now?

“Shit!” I mutter, upset and worried, scrambling out of bed and putting on an old oversized t-shirt that is meant to be my pyjamas.

I decide to get my phone and call him right away to figure out whatever is going on in his mind. Or, at least, to try to. My phone’s in my bag, in the kitchen.

But, as soon as I pull my bedroom door open, my heart nearly stops at the shock. Adam is in the dining room, fully dressed and standing in front of the entrance door. As still as a statue.

He looks up at me, full of regret and I froze. 

“I thought you had left...” I barely say, my throat tightening painfully.

“I… I tried to.”

Bitterness spreads through my body at his confession and, after what happened between us, after my dreamy high expectations, I have to swallow hard to keep the tears at bay.

Has this meant anything to him at all? What is he running away from?

“What has stopped you?” After a year of battling with him and with his emotional constipation, I’m truly tired. I’m just exhausted. And I don’t think I can bear with the disappointment of whatever he is about to say.

But his expression is not stern, neither stoic as it usually is. He looks worn out. As exhausted as I am. And mostly troubled. “I can’t… I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of lying to myself and to everyone. To you...”

“I don’t think you are as good a liar as you think you are, Adam…”

My snarky but sincere comment makes him smile sadly. 

There’s a tense silence. A whole minute of staring at each other, seizing each other. Until he breaks the silence once again to tell me out of the blue, “I’m in love with you, Eve.”

But he looks so troubled at that beautiful line that my heart dreads and I can’t find the wits to answer back. I feel like crying and, even so, I pull a smile on. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Can I ask… What are you so scared of?”

“Loss. Guilt...” he replies without hesitation. “I love you but, whatever happens, I don’t want to drag you along with me. To this darkness...”

And, suddenly, everything clicks. Adam has suffered loss with mortals, with friends and family, for over 900 years. I’m sure that the last thing he intended was to fall in love with one. We, mortals, are… brief. Fleeting lives. Shooting stars. He just doesn’t want to lose me. To suffer another loss. But, most and foremost, he doesn’t want to drag me with him to his curse. 

He considers himself a monster. He doesn’t want me to become a vampire in order to be together.

I can’t help but feel sorry for him and for his experiences. For the complex situation that we find ourselves into and because there’s no way we will both be able to come out of it intact. And I’m fully aware of it when I lock my eyes in his icy green ones, reddened by worry and hesitation. Anxious. “You’re not dragging me anywhere I didn’t think of before _you and me_ ever happened and, even so, it wouldn’t be your decision to make Adam, but mine. If anything has to be, we will figure it out once it’s time. The only thing you are to decide now is staying with me or leaving. That's it..."

The words leave my mouth on a rushed blurt out that is barely a whisper before the pain in my throat forbids me on carrying on talking and I’m fully aware of how ultimate it sounds. My eyes are wet, far much of what I intended, but I also understand that this will be it. A tipping point. After what has just happened between us, there’s no way we would be able to go back to what we had before, that platonic and patient relationship. And, if he leaves now… I don’t even want to think about it.

I go back to my bedroom under his attentive and aching stare, and into my bed, laying on my side and covering myself with the blankets. 

Nothing happens.

Five. Ten. Or perhaps thirty minutes just focused on my breath. I’m not sure of how long I remain awake, listening to every sound, wondering if he will choose me over his doubts. 

But, as the minutes happen and nothing else matters but his absence, the tears I’ve been stubbornly keeping inside burst free and slide down my cheeks, dying in the fluffiness of the pillow. 

He’s left. He’s made his choice and he’s left. 

And he’s taken my heart with him.

I’m so deep in my misery that I startle when an unexpected weight sinks the left part of the mattress down. Adam shifts closer, flushing his chest against my back, and wraps his arm around me tightly. Then, he drops a single kiss on my shoulder that means the universe to me. 

“I love you,” he whispers quietly against my ear.

I dry my tears, wriggling around in his embrace to face him. To kiss him.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Confession: it has taken me 5 months to find inspiration to write smut for Adam. It has been one of the most difficult things I've written in my whole life. I don't know if I've fallen out of character because, tbh, I have no clue of how this 'first time' is gonna work between them and the detective at all.  
> So, I just hope you enjoyed and we will wait patiently for Mishka to feed our starving longing.  
> ***  
> Follow me on Tumblr! [ AnaVakarian](https://anavgcvakarian.tumblr.com/)  
> ***  
> Don't forget to leave kudos or comments if you liked it! ❤❤❤


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